Leslie Anne Tarabella Southern With a Gulf Coast Accent

This is a story I wrote this past winter, but never got around to posting here on my site – if you subscribe to my newsletter, you’ll read about my current project (or at least a hint of it) and all that is swirling in my world. Drop me a note and let me know how you are – I love hearing from my readers. If you want to subscribe to the newsletters that offer a bit of backstory and alert you to new posts, click the link above in the blue area just above my name – thanks!

But don’t lock your doors and pull the portieres just yet. After careful scientific calculations, comparisons, and contemplations of vintage church cookbooks, Junior League newsletters, and detailed wedding announcements — from the days they were published in a real newspaper, I’ve discovered that the surest way to resurrect good manners and friendliness is to revive the lost art of being a hostess.

No balking, because it really isn’t particularly difficult. Some of the jolliest gatherings are the simplest.

Why, just last week, Mary Jo ran into Julia at Hobby Lobby and said, “Hey, why don’t y’all come over tomorrow afternoon for cookies and hot chocolate?”

Julia jumped at the chance, mostly because she wanted to see Mary Jo’s new living room carpet, which someone had said looked like baby spit. “Sure!” she said. “I’ll bring cheese straws.”

Something magical happens when people step inside a home. They drop the politics and snide remarks they’d normally hurl at a faceless computer and become downright charming. It’s remedial social skills for a society that’s forgotten how to behave.

Julia gushed, “Oh, Mary Jo, your new carpet is lovely,” while silently thinking, “Whoever said it was baby barf was wrong. It’s more like squashed ladybugs.”

Being invited into someone’s home also makes guests think, “I don’t have any pants without drawstrings.” If that’s the case, have I got a Dillard’s for you. Yes, I know it isn’t Gayfer’s, but it’ll do.

Start small. Have everyone bring a dish. Put on music and dim the lights, which eliminates the need to touch up your roots or dust.

And what happens if you knock yourself out and they show up in ripped britches, accessorized with a bad attitude and complaints? It’s soothing to realize that you won’t ever have to invite them back again. Pity.

Parties shouldn’t be limited to the holidays. Southerners can celebrate a new puppy, a bowl of buttery butterbeans, a car turning 100,000 miles, or a hurricane-free year (knock on wood). We’ll throw a party for just about anything, with a punch bowl or Yeti cooler on the back porch. People are downright nice to each other once inside the warmth of a home.

Let’s do our civic duty this season and invite someone over. It’s easier than you think—and it just might save civilization, one cheese straw at a time.